Jocks and Nerds
by Ahja Reyn
Summary: Wally and Dick decide to attend one of Happy Harbor's football games.


**Title**: Jocks & Nerds  
><strong>Author<strong>: Reyn  
><strong>Rating<strong>: T  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Superboy/Robin, hinted Miss M/Superboy  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own nor profit from Young Justice.  
><strong>Warnings<strong>: Robin messing with people's heads as Dick Grayson.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: While I was at a high school football game, feeling old and sorry for my college-aged self, I happened to glance up and spot bats flickering in and out of the stadium lights. Bam! Instant inspiration. Thank you, Batman.

**Jocks & Nerds**

The atmosphere was decidedly different from just about any event Dick had ever been to. As far as social gatherings went, this one was…casual. Relaxed, just beneath the thrum of excitement. It was like the people here were actually having fun. Did stuff like this even exist over in Gotham?

"When I said 'dress as if you're going to a study date,' I was thinking school casual with a side of trying to impress your crush. Provided, you know, you didn't go to a snooty rich school where you had to wear uniforms to every event," Wally stated with a disapproving frown, eyes peering above heads as he stood on his toes trying to see how much longer they had until they reached the front of the line.

With his less-than-stellar stature, Dick didn't bother trying to join his friend. "Hey, I'll have you know I've worn this outfit out on a study date before." Looking down at his khaki pants and powder blue button-up shirt, he allowed the side of his mouth to curl up with mischief. "It took two hours to convince my butler to let me wear it out of the house instead of buying a new wardrobe."

Abruptly lowering himself, Wally looked over and found a small group of girls nearby, staring at Dick with wide-eyed interest.

So he punched him in the arm.

"You're such a…" Wally trailed off, shaking his head with a smile at Dick's low laughter. "I still can't believe you're here. As _you_, I mean. And not the other you."

"You mean my evil twin?" Dick asked with a grin. The line moved forward and they moved with it. "Seeing as how this is a public high school, I'm pretty sure wearing sunglasses at night would have come off as more suspicious than the spoiled rich kid who obviously doesn't fit in."

They both paused to watch an overweight man in a stained white t-shirt and gym shorts stroll by, doing a bit of a double take as his eye caught Dick's pale outfit in the sea of dark denim jeans and black and yellow school colors.

"Then again, I might have underestimated how low the standards are for what's publically acceptable," Dick admitted, scratching the back of his head and rotating his body to face Wally as he started to notice several more pairs of eyes focusing in his direction.

"No surprise there, circus boy," Wally snorted with a shake of his head. "Next time you should just listen to me when I grace you with my advice. You could have been a true rebel without a cause."

"Nah, I figured this would be a good chance for you to hang out with your other best friend." Tucking his hands into his pockets, Dick leaned to the side, trying to get a clear view of the ticket booth now only a few feet ahead. "So how much does it cost to get into a public high school football game these days? Ten dollars? Twenty? Twenty-four ninety-five?"

"Uh…try more like five." Wally's hand automatically brushed over his back pocket to ensure his wallet was still there. "Two if we had bothered with fake Happy Harbor student IDs."

Dick's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Seriously?"

Wally couldn't help but laugh at his friend's expense. "Yeah. And before you ask, no, the money they make isn't enough to fund the whole program, but don't forget, public schools generally receive government support."

"Har har," Dick grumbled, stepping up to one side of the ticket window as it became available. But before he could open his mouth and ask if they could break his fifty, Wally was gently nudging him to the side.

"Two students, please." The redhead didn't even need to look to know that Dick was scowling. "Don't worry," he reassured. "You can pay me back at the snack bar."

**Doodle-eh-doo!**

Paying Wally back at the snack bar consisted of three hot dogs, four bags of various brands of chips, one plate of nachos, five candy bars, one bottle of soda, and four bottles of water. The volunteer behind the counter hesitantly asked if they needed a bag.

Wally, who had perfected the art of talking through his teeth when using his mouth to carry food items sometime around his third week of having super speed, coherently told the lady that bags wouldn't be necessary because he was against destroying the environment before walking off, leaving Dick to trail behind with the cheese for the nachos.

"Whatchu holdin' th' cheese funny fo'?" Wally asked upon glancing back before heading up the bleachers' ramp to ensure he was being followed.

"Because I've seen enough movies to know that my outfit won't mix well with any type of condiment if I'm not careful."

Wally actually paused and turned with narrowed eyes. "Yer in Rob mode now, aren' you?"

"Yep."

Cheers went up, prompting both boys to look at the field as the starting kick was made and Wally had to admit he was impressed with the way Dick's eyes never left the game as he successfully evaded two very close calls with other spectators that nearly disrupted the cheese in his hand.

Once the play was over, they scooted their way down a random aisle until they reached a stretch of bench large enough for the two of them plus the food. Wordlessly, Wally passed off the plain hot dog in exchange for the cheese as they rearranged the food between them in piles of who was more likely to eat what in the hypothetical situation of Kid Flash not having a hyper-accelerated metabolism.

"So, just out of curiosity, how do you plan on keeping Conner in the dark about certain aspects of your highly colorful personality?" Wally asked lowly as he pulled the Snickers from Dick's side put it more towards the middle of the food line-up.

The cocked eyebrow that oozed both confusion and self-confidence was such a Robin gesture that Wally couldn't help but wonder why no one was ever able to put two and two together with this kid.

"You saying you don't like my outfit?"

If Wally hadn't seen the words come out of his mouth, he never would have believed it was Dick that said them.

"You don't…" He realized his hot dog was hovering inches away from his mouth and lowered it. "You don't always talk like that, do you?"

"Normally, I add a dash of prepubescence to the nasally vocals," Dick said in the tone Wally was used to. "Wanna hear?"

"Uh, no. The fact that you managed to traumatize me off of my food for almost a minute was more than enough."

Grinning, Dick grabbed the soda and unscrewed the top, careful to hold it between his spread legs in case it decided to fizz over. "Even you didn't recognize me at first, and I doubt his hearing is developed enough to pinpoint my voice in this crowd."

"Huh." Wally brought his hot dog back up to his mouth and took a large bite. "So," he continued after a moment of respectful, chewing silence, "do you have glasses to complete your normal look?"

"Despite being a nerd, Richard Grayson wears contacts," Dick responded with humor alight in his eyes.

Wally snorted. "Richard Grayson shouldn't go referring to himself in third person if he ever hopes to be one of the cool kids."

Dick laughed and turned his attention to the game. "Says you."

"Says me," Wally agreed.

**Doodle-eh-doo!**

Despite holding no interest for football, Dick was able to understand the appeal of attending the games. Friends could meet up and hang out, girls were able to unabashedly stare at their crushes out on the field, and boys got to practice multitasking between watching the game and eyeing the cheerleaders.

Wally proved himself to be an expert as he managed to catch Megan's attention almost as soon as he spotted her, prompting the poor girl to wave despite being in the middle of a cheer formation.

"Why aren't you waving?" Wally asked as he lowered his arm and returned it to its previous propped position on his leg.

"Don't know her, remember?" Dick had looked at Megan long enough to confirm her identity before returning his focus to the game. Or more specifically, the home team's quarterback. "Conner's pretty good."

"Yeah, but I'm surprised he's not completely amazing," Wally commented as he ripped open one of the small bags of chips. "My uncle told me his uh…dad, I guess, played football when he was in high school."

Dick nodded despite the knowledge being nothing new. "Think Conner knows that?"

"Yep," Wally answered without the slightest doubt. "How else would they have convinced him to bother joining the team?"

The crowd winced as the ball was fumbled and taken by the other team.

"Okay, either he's really good at pretending or he just completely sucks when it comes to sports." From the way Superboy's hands were balled into fists, Dick could easily imagine the facial expression that went to match. "Has anyone bothered to check to see how his anger management is holding up?"

"It's his first game, cut the guy some slack." The empty chip bag was added to the pile of trash. "I'm sure most of his concentration is focused on not throwing the ball all the way into the Atlantic, actually falling over when he's tackled, and not causing any serious damage to any of the other players."

Dick frowned as he suddenly found himself recalling all the times Superboy had gone uncharacteristically clumsy in his presence, whether it was during a mission or simply spending time together at the cave. The moments were few and far between, but they were still there.

"Try not to think too much into it," Wally stated, noticing the annoyance flash across Dick's face. "Because I can promise you the comparisons you're making are wrong."

"He talks to you?" Dick's eyes tore away from the field to stare at his friend.

Wally shrugged, doing a bit of a double take upon noticing he suddenly had Dick's full attention. "Uh, yeah. I let him sleep in my closet from time to time and in exchange we have heart-to-hearts every once in a while."

Dick never would have suspected his best friend was the go-to guy for…well…anyone, really. Except for himself. And even that was in heavy moderation.

"So, what's wrong with my comparison?" Dick asked over the cheer of the crowd. He didn't bother looking to see what made them so happy. "Because if I need to step up my game so he'll see me as an equal—"

"It's nothing like that, I promise," Wally swiftly interrupted while standing. "Come on, Megan's waving again. I'll formally introduce you."

**Doodle-eh-doo!**

Dick could tell Wally was impressed with his acting skills. Either that or he just couldn't get over the voice.

He pulled off introducing himself to Megan and her friends as well as any nerdy, sheltered rich kid could – with a friendly, enthusiastic greeting followed by a quick conversation killer.

"Wally's mentioned you before; it's great to finally meet you! I couldn't help but be impressed with your squad's various formations. Who does the physics calculations to figure out how to balance everyone out? Is it someone on the team?"

The other two cheerleaders who had accompanied Megan merely exchanged glances and left without a word. Megan simply looked confused.

"Dude," Wally breathed disbelievingly. "Did you seriously just ask if any of the cheerleaders were total nerds like you?"

"Uhm, if you're talking about that upside down pyramid we did earlier, it's more trial and error until we get it right," Megan answered, looking a bit unsure of herself as the overly-eager look in Dick's eyes refused to fade.

Wally dropped his face into his hands, shaking his head before looking up with renewed recovery and determination in his eyes.

"Oh! Conner will be happy to see that you're here to support him! You, too, Richard – even though he doesn't know who you are. Any friend of Wally's is a friend of ours!" With that Megan turned around and shouted for Superboy, waving her arms above her head to catch his attention.

"Dude! Lay off the geek!" Wally hissed, leaning towards Dick.

"I'm incognito!" Dick insisted, whispering back. "It's part of the package."

"You're creeping me out!"

Both boys immediately straightened as Megan went silent for a moment before Superboy suddenly looked over in their direction. Though it was hard to tell thanks to the helmet, he didn't seem to be smiling. Instead, he nodded at Wally in acknowledgement, his eyes briefly glancing at Dick before returning his attention to whatever instructions the coach was giving him.

"That was his happy face?" Dick figured he had a right to sound skeptical.

Megan bit her lip, her troubled gaze lingering on Superboy for a moment before traveling back to the group. "I'm sorry. He's probably just a bit stressed from the game. I'll talk to him during halftime. Maybe I can convince him hang out later! If you guys are available, that is."

Wally was nothing if not a man of opportunity. "For you, gorgeous, my schedule is always open."

"Great! I've learned about a couple of 'happening' places nearby, so I know we'll have fun!" Megan turned as she heard her name being called. "I have to get back with the squad, but I'll let you know where to meet up later, okay?"

To Dick's credit, he waited until Megan started walking away. "Feel free to invite your cheerleading friends! Especially if they're looking for a math tutor!"

Wally's look of absolute horror amused Dick to no end.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"A math tutor?" Wally repeated. "You just – What are you? A mathlete or something?"

Dick contemplated the best way of breaking the news to his friend. "Come on, Wally. You might want to sit down for this…"

**Doodle-eh-doo!**

Halftime was nearly over and the boys had taken to leaning against the fence that separated the spectators from the field in a comfortable silence. If Dick were to be honest with himself, he was bored. Wally wasn't nearly as floored as he had hoped when he shared the news about being a mathlete. This effectively destroyed about an hour's worth of fun.

The players had returned to the field and Dick's eyes were glued to Superboy, who had removed his helmet at some point while in the locker rooms, leaving his hair a mess and his face an open book for Dick to read.

The coach was obviously a good one because all of the tension that had been leaking from the clone's body earlier was now gone in favor of his usual, mostly blank slate. Anyone who was capable of calming Superboy down in less than fifteen minutes deserved some kind of medal. Or a pay raise. He'd have to talk to Bruce about that.

Dick continued to watch as Megan approached the team and stood at a slight distance, causing the corners of Superboy's mouth to tug into a small frown before jogging over to see what she wanted. Dick had no idea why that was necessary when Megan was better equipped to communicate telepathically than verbally. And then she touched Superboy's arm and Dick immediately got the picture.

He didn't quite feel like hanging out after the game anymore.

It wasn't that this was the first time he was witnessing such an occurrence. Megan's crush was painfully obvious to anyone who possessed a pair of eyes. It was just whenever she made physical contact with Superboy, she would lose her ability to speak, and Superboy, sensing the mood, would gaze at her with this confused, troubled look that made Dick's gut twist and his heart pound. Much like it was doing now.

And while Dick couldn't prove it, he was pretty sure the rapid beating of his heart to super-sensitive ears was what broke up the mood on every occasion he'd been present for. Including this one.

"Shit." Dick ducked his head in a feeble attempt to at least hide his appearance from the steel blue eyes that were now staring directly at him.

From beside him, Wally blinked out of whatever stupor he had fallen into and sent Dick a concerned glance. "What?"

"I think I just blew my cover. I gotta go." Without bothering to listen to Wally's response, Dick turned on his heel and walked away.

**Doodle-eh-doo!**

The way Dick saw it, he had two means of escaping. The faster, and more direct method of bee-lining it for the gate or sneaking behind the bleachers to remain out of sight and possibly jump the fence, which was slower only because he'd have to ensure there were no witnesses.

Deciding he liked the idea of no witnesses, Dick made his way under the bleachers. The loud, echoing bangs of numerous feet marching up and down the stairs was more than enough to hide the currently distinct rhythm of his heartbeat and he paused to allow himself a moment to calm down.

"Hey."

Dick stiffened and turned his head. There stood Superboy in all his football glory, helmet clutched in hand, looking every bit like Conner Kent. The abrupt pull in Dick's chest prompted him to turn around completely so that he was facing the star quarterback.

"Hi," he greeted back softly.

For a moment, Superboy only stared. And Dick let him.

"I saw you out there with Wally, and thought…" Superboy trailed off as he walked forward a few steps.

"Name's Dick."

Superboy's brows drew together in confusion. "Dick?"

"Well," Dick shrugged. "Richard Grayson, but I make everyone call me Dick."

The frown remained and Dick realized he had automatically been talking with a bit of his nasally tone. Whatever Superboy had thought, he was obviously doubting himself now.

"Conner Kent," he finally responded, his eyes no less suspicious.

"I know." The suspicion only grew, driving Dick to find an explanation. "They announced your name on the speakers. And you're kind of the talk of the stadium."

Superboy nodded and moved in a bit closer. "I saw you watching me."

"I was watching the game," Dick denied, even as he saw the shift of stubbornness in Superboy's jaw.

"You were watching me."

"Is this how jocks make new friends?" Dick forced himself to take a few steps back. "Because you're coming on a little strong."

"I just—" Superboy was cut off as a generic ringtone pierced the air between them.

Reaching into his pocket, Dick retrieved his phone and glanced at the screen, finding Wally's goofy face smiling up at him from the caller I.D.

His finger hovered over the 'decline' option. "I should take this call."

The look that crossed Superboy's features wasn't all that different from the times Superman brushed him off. And just like those times, hope dove in for a quick, fragile recovery. "Could I…have your number?"

Dick stared. He knew for a fact Superboy didn't have a cell phone and couldn't imagine him using Justice League equipment to place a personal call. Therefore, what was the harm?

"Sure." Dick's thumb hit 'decline' and he tucked his phone away, reaching into his other pocket for a pen.

Grabbing Superboy's free hand, he twisted it around and began writing on the inside of the tanned forearm.

"R.G.?" Superboy questioned.

"Yeah, my initials." Dick smiled but didn't bother to look up. "Trust me, you'll appreciate it when your teammates start to tease you. Usually, I'm not much of a phone person, so don't be offended if I don't pick up."

Even as Superboy lowered his arm, Dick couldn't help but let his touch linger. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that he could ever take advantage of moments like these as Robin.

"Kent!"

Dick quickly jumped back as Superboy's head twisted around to face the anonymous teammate who was sent to track him down.

"What the hell, man? The game's about to start!"

Superboy nodded and turned back around to find Dick backing away.

"I'll see you around?" Dick asked as his phone started to ring again.

Frustration flashing through his eyes at being forced into an abrupt goodbye, Superboy nodded once more and brought his helmet up to chest level in preparation to put it on. Dick spun around to leave but stopped at the call of his name.

"I…" Superboy glared down at his helmet in a moment of hesitation before looking back up and locking gazes with Dick. "I like your eyes."

Dick's face paled as Superboy slipped the helmet on and jogged off back to the field. He _really_ hoped that didn't mean what he thought it meant.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: quarterback!Conner kissing nerdy!Dick under the bleachers was my driving force for this idea. Seeing as how such a mental image didn't make it into the story, a sequel is obviously in order. After I catch up on other obligations, of course.


End file.
